


Love and Marriage

by GlassGeorgeGlass



Series: Making Right What Once Went Wrong [4]
Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: 1994, But JD preferred Nick Cave, Enemies to Tolerating Each Other, F/M, Finally giving Heather Chandler a chance, Forever Chasing the High of a Scholastic Book Fair, Growing Up, I honestly never really liked Corn Nuts, Proposals, She probably got into Tom Waits too, Slushies and Corn Nuts, Sweet Valley High Books Were My Early Teen Life, Veronica probably dug the Harvest Moon album, Veronica's having a quarter life crisis, Weddings Drive everybody crazy amirite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:42:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29814825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlassGeorgeGlass/pseuds/GlassGeorgeGlass
Summary: It's 1994 and Veronica Sawyer is 22 years old. She just graduated undergrad and is visiting friends and family in Ohio. JD just started his first "grown-up" job and can't tag along so she decides it's a last hurrah of singledom. Oh, did she mention she just got engaged? Well don't worry, everyone else keeps bringing it up. And up. And up again. They all seem to care more about that than the fact that she got accepted into a doctoral program to study clinical psychology and she's not sure why that really upsets her. She loves JD. She *wants* to marry him! She heads to the 7/11 to take a break from all her crazy thoughts and runs into the last person she would expect to talk her out of this funk. Maybe some people just need time to change.
Relationships: Heather Chandler & Veronica Sawyer, Jason "J. D." Dean/Veronica Sawyer
Series: Making Right What Once Went Wrong [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1823566
Comments: 10
Kudos: 13





	Love and Marriage

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. It's been a smidge, my apologies. Life... bit me in the butt this last few weeks. Nothing serious, but enough to get me away from updating. Enough of that though. This was a snippet of a few parts of the epilogue but in a fit of reorganization this got promoted to full on two-part sequel. I know. I *know* the epilogue has everyone chomping at the bits and I *swear* it's close to being perfect but I really wanted to post this. 
> 
> I received a LOT of feedback on chapter 29 about Heather Chandler in the main story (valid! totally!) and how it feels like she needed more closure. So, this is it. It's also some hardcore Jdronica because, well, I feel like it fits. I wrote it separate at first but it just came to me in a moment of inspiration to put it together.
> 
> Needle Drop:  
> "Harvest Moon" -- Neil Young

**1994**

_Veronica had just gotten back from her internship in uptown Manhattan at a psychology clinic. She’d had class all day before that, and last night she had closed the library and didn't get home until midnight. She was exhausted._ Two more months, _she reminded herself._ Two more months until graduation. _She was tired and wanted to split a bottle of wine with her boyfriend, watch X-Files, and have said boyfriend go down on her. Maybe all three at the same time— she was in that kind of mood._

_She was still anxiously waiting on the acceptance letter to the PhD program at Queens College she had applied to in clinical psychology and it was nerve wracking not knowing._

_She managed a smile though when she found JD hanging outside their apartment door, wearing a cheap black suit jacket and crooked tie. He hated wearing ties. And he only wore a suit if someone died._

_“I’m confused," she said as he took her book bag and quickly put it on the chair inside, not letting her get a peak yet. "Did you have a court appearance today that you failed to mention to me?" He smoothed his hair down— he’d gotten it cut— and smiled charmingly._

_He said simply, “no. Come on, I have a surprise for you.” She looked at him curiously but did as he asked and allowed him to lead her into their apartment with his hands over her eyes. She giggled as she stumbled and he led her to a chair and had her sit. When he removed his hands she gasped. He had strung up cheap white Christmas lights and set them out a candlelit dinner. Music was softly playing. Neil Young._ Harvest Moon. _It was a bit too hippy for his taste, but he knew she liked the album._

“Come a little bit closer, hear what I have to say. Just like children sleepin’, we could dream this night away…”

_This was wholly unexpected but not totally unwelcome. She took a sip of the bubbly he had poured for her. It was good. Really good. A queer feeling struck her. It was a bit too good for their budget. She looked at the small table in front of her with a tablecloth and everything. In the center was a vase with a single peach rose with burnt yellow on the edge. She had no care for “the language of roses” as Martha had told her about once in middle school… he just knew they were her favorite kind and bought her one. She hadn’t even been aware they owned a cloth tablecloth. Or candles. The candles were probably his aunt’s— she couldn’t picture JD buying candles. She smiled as she picked up the rose and smelled it. She put it back down, enjoying the gesture more than she could imagine. He really could be the sweetest sometimes. You know, when he wasn't forgetting to do the dishes._

_She glanced and saw him fussing in the kitchen, putting dinner on a nice platter to present her. She could smell the fresh oregano and basil from here. He’d made her favorite: spaghetti with lots of oregano. Not that it was terribly complicated, but he had become good at making sauce from scratch and making his own meatballs lately. He'd gotten into "artisanal" cooking. No more jarred sauce for them he declared. She had begun to get a taste for it in fact._

_She could feel her anxiety melt away. Her worry for her acceptance letter and the stress of the day was now a distant memory. This was sweet of him. He’d never done anything like this before._ _That was her first clue something was up. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, or try, or even that he didn’t have a deeply romantic side to him, but he wasn’t a grand gesture type. He seldom got her flowers and if he bought her candy it was a pack of Starbursts he’d toss to her as a joke._

_The second clue was that there was a small box on the table with a note in it. Overwhelmed with curiosity she picked up the note and read it:_

“What is irritating about love is that it is a crime that requires an accomplice.” 

_Baudelaire_ _. It was a Baudelaire quote. The first poet he ever quoted to her. The first thing he’d ever said to her was written by him as well. All of a sudden it became startlingly clear. The flowers, the candles, the twinkle lights, the romance-y music that she liked but he could take or leave. The box. The note._

_“Oh my god, you’re proposing!” She exclaimed in shock as she stood up, causing the chair she was sitting on to fall. Startled, he coughed, annoyed that his plan had been interrupted. He’d put on a tie. He had a speech. And music he didn’t really love but she did. He'd made dinner and gotten her a rose._

_Without even waiting for his plan to unfurl she saw the box on the table and she opened it. The ring. Her engagement ring. It was perfect, exactly the kind she pretended she never daydreamed about as a child._

_Again, a little too nice for their meager budget._

_“Oh my god. You're really proposing. You got a ring. You set this up to ask me to marry you. Oh god, you didn’t spend money on it, did you? We don’t make enough to-”_

_“Veronica,” he said quietly, putting the food off for a moment to deal with his ruined proposal plan. She looked up at him with wide eyes. “Turn the card over.” She did, on the back it read, “My mother left me this ring. She said to give it to someone special. You're the only person I ever knew I would give it to.” Tears were coming to her eyes. He was proposing with his mother’s engagement ring. She choked back a sob_

_“You maybe should’ve led with that.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Are you critiquing your marriage proposal?”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Sorry, Oh gosh. I’m spoiling this moment, aren’t I?” He smiled slyly at her and put his forefinger and thumb together to imply, “a little bit.” She laughed through her craziness and tears and lifted the ring out._

 _“I told you she left a note for me, right?” She nodded. She had never asked to read it, knowing how personal it was for him. “This was inside of it. Like I put in the note, she told me to give it to someone special. I was waiting for the right time to give it to you. You’re the only special girl I’ve ever known.” His mom’s. He was proposing with his mom’s engagement ring. He picked up her hand, took the ring from her, and slipped the shiny thing on her ring finger. It was a little big, but she could take it to a jeweler to get fitted later. He closed his fingers around hers and nudged it back and forth. She did another overwhelmed laugh slash cry. "_ _She loved that ring. I’d catch her staring at it every now and then, the way the stone sparkled. Probably the nicest thing he ever gave her along with the pearls.” He shrugged. “Wear it? Please?” She looked down at her ring, then back at the boy-- man-- who’d asked her. Jason Dean. Her’s._

_Small tears fell down her cheeks as she laughed._

_“All I expected to do tonight was watch X-Files, get drunk, and have you go down on me,” she told him._

_He laughed. “We can still do all of that. It’s only seven. X-Files isn't on until nine.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Promise?”_ __  
_  
_ _“Yeah. You're gonna marry me, so than sure. I promise. Least I can do."_

_“You know,” she looked at the ring on her finger. “A bit presumptuous of you to assume I was going to say yes.” He laughed. “Ask me anyway. Ask me properly.” His lips quirked. Veronica Sawyer liked being asked things properly by him._

_“Veronica Sawyer, will you marry me?” She nodded enthusiastically._

_“Yes. I was just teasing. Of course I will. Yes.” She reached over the table and grabbed him and kissed him senseless. And yes, they drank a bottle of wine, watched X-Files and he, well, yes, he did the third thing too._

**Two Months Later...**

Veronica was sitting on her bed in her parent’s house smiling at the familiar yet unfamiliar surroundings. Some of the furniture and most of the belongings had moved into her apartment in New York but she still had the same bed and the walls looked the same. If she squinted and wished hard enough she wondered if she’d hear the sound of JD opening the window from the outside to sneak into her room. She would lock the door and help him in scolding him for making too much noise her parents might hear before giving her that cocky self-assured smile and pulling her in for a kiss, her arms slipping into his coat and around his tall frame...

He wouldn’t of course. He just started his first “grown up” job-- as she’d called it-- even though he still had some coursework left before he finished his own bachelor’s degree next year but she had just graduated and decided a visit to the folks in Ohio was in order. There was a lot to celebrate.

She had been accepted into a doctoral program at Queens College to begin the process of becoming a psychologist. It was a hard program to get into and she had driven herself crazy studying for the GRE but she had done gang busters on it and she could barely believe it.

Oh, and JD had proposed and she accepted. That was the other reason to celebrate.

She was sitting on her bed laughing as she was reading. She had found her old stash of teen romance novels and was giddily reading them larking down nostalgia lane. She knew from the time difference JD would be home from work soon and would probably call to see how things were and was sitting next to the cordless in anticipation. On cue the phone rang. "Y'ello?" She asked hoping it was a particular somebody. 

“What are you wearing?” A male voice asked huskily. She giggled madly. He remembered their old joke when he used to call and she’d answer.

“What do you think I’m wearing?” She responded coyly. They always had different answers to the question. Sometimes she’d think of something fun to say or tease him, sometimes she’d counter him. It was a fun game they hadn’t played in a while.

He groaned, missing her. It had been three days but he disliked sleeping alone. He wished he could have joined her but it really was too soon after starting to request time off and he was trying to get a union certification. He put all his grown up worries out of his mind though, trying to remember the way they called each other when they were teens. “Silk,” he said definitively. “I’m picturing you perched on your bed in a blue silk teddy with frills, and the strap has just slid down your shoulder making it look like the whole thing will fall off at any second. You’re on your stomach with your legs kicked up, your hair flowing down, smiling and beckoning me to join you.” Just like his teenage self, flirtatious and horny. She laughed.

“Close. It’s actually my NYU sweater and track pants. My hair’s in a yuck messy ponytail and I’m cross legged with a Diet Coke and a Sweet Valley High book.”

“Oh, which one?” He asked, forgetting his lascivious passes and interested in her reading material. She snorted.

“You’re aware what the average plot of a Sweet Valley High novel is, are you?” He considered it carefully.

“Of course. I adore anything that happened in Sweet Valley, California. The plights of Elizabeth, Jessica, their brother Steven, their best friends Enid and Lila. All the gang. Honestly, Veronica I read anything in the library I saw other than— god forbid— school assigned books when I was eleven or so,” he recalled. The public library was one of the few places after school he could hang out at other than a 7/11 to avoid going home after school. Much like the convenience store and gas station chain most of the time every town had one. The best was hitting up the library then the 7/11 for candy and a slushie. Those were the days he’d felt like a king. “But there were more girl books than boy books so to speak and I was curious what was in the books the girls read. The librarian didn’t care, she was just happy a pre-teen boy was checking books out. It was all good, until some jerk eighth grader saw me reading it in the table area outside with my candy stash and called me all kinds of fun hateful slurs regarding my sexuality.” Veronica’s heart dropped. It still burned her that kids could be that cruel over something as stupid as that.

“Oh god, what did you do?” She asked, but remembering him from high school when they met she should’ve known.

“Simple. I slammed my fist into his face, he fell back shocked, and than I kicked him when he was down. It was my first official ‘fight’ other than some schoolyard pushing and whatnot when I was younger.” Veronica was stunned. “I was twelve and he was thirteen. I was kind of proud I managed to take him,” he remembered ruefully. He had done enough work on himself though to understand how fucked up that mentality was but he was always honest in his memories not wanting to sugar coat his past or his old mindset of anger and violence.

“You never told me that before.”

“It’s not a very fun ‘first’ story is it?” He responded.

“What happened? Did you get in trouble? Did he?” He thought back and remembered the truth plainly.

“The librarian— not the nice one who checked the books out to me— but the more fuddy duddy one that kicked me out to the outdoor area for eating candy in the first place saw it and had the security guard bust us up. They called his parents, and of course my dad.” Veronica understood that couldn’t have gone over well.

“And?”

“It was… a mess. Dad showed up, like, way after the other boy’s mom did. She made some cracks about it, I was labeled a delinquent. When he finally came to pick me up he was more pissed he had to leave work to deal with this and took it out on me in the car ride home. Same old, same old.” She understood. She didn’t like how normalized he had made some of his childhood stories of neglect or casual cruelty from his father but she knew he dealt with it and built his life past it.

He remembered being shocked his dad even showed up, briefly wondering if he should do it more often if it got his attention. After he was done yelling in the car about the inconvenience to him, Bud turned to JD and finally admitted, “at least you took the older kid better than you got.” In JD’s adolescent brain he immediately connected the idea of getting in trouble for attention and “winning” a fight as praise— which of course was the opposite of healthy parenting. He’d get into more fights in middle school hoping for the same attention until finally his dad stopped bothering to show up. 

“Worst part of all, I ended up getting my library card revoked from that system.”

“Oh, that’s just plain cruel,” she agreed, knowing for him that must have been worse than any yelling or abuse his dad could have dealt out. 

“Yeah! For real! Like, I was the one being picked on for reading. I should have gotten a medal!”

“Well, I think that’s a bit of a stretch, but speaking as a child of a librarian I can firmly say she is not representative of the profession as a whole. Mom never would’ve banned a kid from a library.” He chuckled, trying to imagine her mother ever doing such a thing. In fact, when he had issues at the Sherwood library getting a card— his driver’s license not issued in Ohio with current address and him not having mail with his name on it— from some stick in the mud refusing to retire, Mrs. Sawyer walked up, rolled her eyes, and succinctly told the woman he went to school with her daughter and that if a teenage boy wanted a library card he should just be given a library card. He remembered thinking it was pretty badass at the time. 

“Eh, we were gone a couple of weeks later. New town, new library, new 7/11 to go to. The world moved on.” He changed the tone of the conversation quickly so as to not waste their limited phone time— her parents hated the line being tied up by them if he remembered clearly— on stories like that. He was happy, and missed her. He wanted to flirt and talk about fun things. “That being said I can safely say that I have defended the honor of the Wakefield twins and am not unfamiliar with their hijinks. Now, give me a brief description of the one you read.”

She too thought it best to keep the tone light and looked down at the fun early 80s cover of two un-helmeted wild teens on a motorcycle cruising. “It was number six, _Dangerous Love_. Todd buys a motorcycle but Elizabeth can’t ride it because her parents forbade it owing to a cousin that was killed in a motorcycle accident. But she doesn’t just tell him that because, you know, Sweet Valley drama and he starts to take it personally as an affront so he lets other girls ride it with him. She gets super jealous naturally and so, against her parents wishes— with whom she never discusses this problem with because, again, Sweet Valley drama— rides on the back of it and of course is immediately punished for the transgression as Todd crashes it and she ends up in a coma. The end.”

“Wait, it just ends with her in a coma? Like, that’s it? What happens to Elizabeth?” He asked, genuinely concerned.

“I don’t know!” She told him frustrated. “I can’t find number six! I must not have remembered to get it at the bookstore the next month in 1984. Very upsetting. For all we know this could have been the last book in the series and it all ends with Elizabeth dying! Well, except I have nine and up and they’re both on the covers.”

“I’m going to live forever wondering what happened to Elizabeth.” She laughed. “I’ll talk to Frank at the Book Cellar. He can probably track number seven down for you.” She loved that her boyfriend— her tough badass construction site working soon-to-be-a-manager boyfriend at that— was on a first name basis with their local used book seller and that he would go out of his way to track down a Sweet Valley High book for her on a random whim. She was already planning the night they’d share snuggling up with each other taking turns reading it out loud in dramatic voices and giggling madly with a bottle of wine until 3AM until he would finally pluck it out of her hands, toss it to the side and began to slowly undress her...

She missed him. _Really_ missed him. She too had trouble sleeping in a bed alone now that she was used to sharing one with him. Even if he did annoying things like hog the blanket. “Aw, I knew there was a reason I loved you.” He snorted. “Thank goodness you never had a motorcycle. I may have suffered the same fate as poor Elizabeth.”

“Oh god, I wanted one bad though,” he admitted. 

“Oh man. I can imagine.” She remembered him at seventeen when they met. He wasn’t a 180 from his teenage self, but he had grown up in his appearance and look so to speak. The flannels and jeans were still there but she had finally retired his coat and she had saved up for a nice more grown up leather one and presented it to him for his 21st birthday. He even owned a good pair of slacks and a suit jacket for interviews and formal occasions. And shoes? Well, he’d branched out to a good pair for said occasions, sneakers for his long distance runs he still took to keep his stress low and sanity clear, work boots for when he was on site, and now he only put on his tough guy boots when he was in the mood. “You in that trench coat, boots, and attitude you had in high school pulling up on a motorcycle. My goodness, you would’ve been quite the dream come true.”

“I mean,” he added, cockily. “You were already throwing yourself on me anyway, imagine how much worse you would’ve had it with a bike in the mix?” She laughed.

“Wait, why didn’t you have one then?” She hadn’t thought Bud Dean was all that overprotective of his son’s safety, especially after the story he just told her about how he was just glad he’d “won” the fight he’d gotten into.

“Eh, he’d pay for the car because it was too much trouble for him to drive me anywhere and we often lived in places where walking just wasn’t possible. Also, it was practical. I could load up our stuff in it as well as his each time we’d move or if he needed me to haul shit for him,” he explained. The “he” was always his father. It didn’t hurt him or make him angry anymore merely bringing him up but it still wasn’t a subject either of them lingered on for long. “A motorcycle wouldn’t have been useful for that. I just thank god he never tried to teach me to drive. School I was at in California when I was fifteen and the one in Kansas at sixteen both offered driver’s ed classes through the school. I don’t even know how bad that would’ve gone down.”

“That explains it.” She never could imagine his father giving him driving lessons like hers had. “Honestly, mine was pretty bad at it. Oh my god, you should have seen my dad try to teach me. At one point he got on my nerves so much I stopped the car, got out, and walked the five miles home. There was a reason I never took the road test.” They laughed as Veronica had a realization. “Wow. This is fun, I can’t remember the last time we had a phone call that wasn’t to convey where we were or where to meet or to pick something up at the store or something like that. Like, a phone call that was just to talk.” They’d been living together for a couple of years now, so it wasn’t as if the need had arisen since then. 

“I didn’t even think of it that way but you’re right. Can you believe I still have this number memorized?” He laughed. “I didn’t have to look in your phone book. I still remember it as ‘your’ number, not your parents.” She giggled, feeling nostalgic all of a sudden.

“Remember those epic phone calls in high school where we’d watch movies on TV and make snarky remarks to each other?” Sometimes there would be quiet breaks where they’d just hear each other breathing, but knowing the other was connected through the phone line was almost like he was laying in bed next to her watching it with her.

“I just wanted to make you laugh,” he recalled fondly. “I loved hearing you giggle and knowing it was me who did that.” He focused on the happy part as they were being nostalgic. But he also knew underneath that was the sadder truth. He’d lock his door and use those calls as a way to not deal with his father as he slowly got drunk, and hoped he wouldn’t get angry and turn to JD verbally yelling— or worse— and just escape to a happy place with her. He didn’t mention it, not wanting to bring the mood down, but in reality those phone calls kept him sane and from feeling so utterly alone and miserable in his father’s house. It was one of the many things she did without even realizing it that helped him immeasurably in their relationship over the last five years.

“Stop it,” she said, overwhelmed by the tender memory. “You offering to track down childhood books, telling me you love to hear me laugh, I mean if I haven’t already put out… oh man. Ugh, remind me again that you’re the same boyfriend that never remembers to buy toilet paper when we’re out insisting on playing a game of chicken with me until I finally just go to the store and do it.” He feigned an aghast shock.

“Hey! You aren’t always a joy to live with too Veronica ‘I leave barely enough milk in the fridge for anyone else to have coffee with in the morning” Sawyer.” She batted it away. Both issues were old fights they’d hashed out, accepted, and moved past. “Besides, that’s fiancée, remember?” A cold gust went out of her happy sails as she looked down at her finger and saw the ring. It really was beautiful and the story of his mom leaving it to him for “someone special” made her all kinds of fuzzy inside it was just…

...she was getting a little sick of everyone bringing up the wedding this visit to Ohio. It was all her parents wanted to talk about. It was all Martha and Heather M wanted to discuss— even though it was the first time all three of them had been in the same room together in a year!— and anyone who noticed the ring who mildly knew her immediately said something.

“Yeah, that’s right. Fiancée,” she agreed, not wanting to dump all of that on him. Not when the rest of the call had been so pleasant. It was a bad move not just talking to him though, as he plowed on unaware of her feelings and moved on to more wedding talk.

“So, what did your folks say about us using their house at the end of the summer?” She had asked them one simple question about it in the car and it had blown into a whole discussion of wedding stuff.

_They had barely left the airport from picking her up when her mother launched her happy rant after she harmlessly asked if it was okay to use the backyard. “Oh honey, that’ll be perfect. We’ll set up a nice little awning, get some seats. Oh, Mrs. Flannery’s would be so glad for the floral business. You remember she liked seeing you and Martha in town when you were little looking at the flowers and buying inexpensive little posies for yourselves when you had a little money? Oh! How many people do you think?” Veronica had barely any time to answer before she just made the list herself. “I mean, there’s us, his aunt, grandma, your uncle and aunt…” she started calculating. She searched her purse for a pen and a little notebook. "Oh, little Sasha is four now. I think she can handle flower girl duties. But Timmy? Let's avoid a one year old as a ring bearer," she added with a chuckle in reference to her aunt and uncle's kids._

_“I hadn't really thought of flower girls and stuff yet. But, guests? I don't know. Um, twenty? I guess? That feels like a lot though, doesn’t it?” She hadn’t even thought about that stuff yet. Guests. Awnings. Flower girls. The idea that people may be hurt if they weren’t “invited.” But, she didn’t know people like that, right? The event was hardly a royal wedding and she and JD were no Chuck and Di after all. She realized a moment after thinking that it was most definitely NOT a marriage to emulate if the recent tabloid articles were to be believed._

_“I’m glad this will be at the end of the summer, you two have been together long enough I think to be ready,” her father added warmly. “I mean, you already live together. It’s better to make it all official, right?” That particularly struck Veronica as odd. Her father had never made a distinction in the relationship status of living together vs “being married” that she could remember. In her mind, she had seen JD’s proposal more as a nice way of formalizing what they had, but largely a continuation of their status, not as much of a difference in how they behaved or were viewed._

_And was this the same dad that freaked out about them moving in together too soon in the first place making her promise to wait until she was twenty-one?_

_“Oh yes,” her mother said, excited. She paused her guest list planning. “I can finally stop listening to my mother call the arrangement you have with Jason as ‘ever so modern’ in that tone of hers. I know they’ll want to attend, but if you want to cut some of the cousins out I understand. It’s a lot of extra people that you’re just not that close to. Blame me if they say anything.”_

_“Mom, I mean, it’s not that pressing-” She tried to say. She had literally no idea why all this talk was making her so antsy. Without even realizing she was doing it she started playing with the ring on her finger._

_“Yeah, don’t. Syl, honestly they already blame me for you not showing up all the time and not going to church still and all sorts of things. I can take the heat for excluding some of your family that Veronica doesn’t need to invite.” Her mother laughed and patted his arm as they turned from the highway nearly back at home._

_“See honey? That’s the first piece of marital advice I can offer. Learn to shift the blame around.” They both laughed like it was a cute joke. It was surprising. She’d… never heard them talk like this before. She didn’t like being infantilized, and liked being treated like a grownup but she had never been raised— in her view— to “find a husband” or marriage being a top priority. She was surprised by how they were taking this._

_She wanted them to be happy of course, but the planning? The advice?_

_“Mom, I mean, JD and I aren’t really like-” Veronica said, suddenly feeling a strange pin in her stomach. She never really thought until that moment that being “married” was different than what she and JD had now. They had been comfortably going out for nearly five years, and living together for one of them. They’d gotten past the awkward squabbles of co-habitating and realized they were still just as into each other despite the quirks and she just assumed… well, marriage would be more of the same, just with fun matching rings and a party where there’d be bubbly and cake._

It was probably why she was distracting herself in her teenage bedroom reading teen romance novels about perfect size six blonde twins hopping into boys Porches. She knew she should just tell JD all of this stuff, but she didn’t understand a lot of it herself. And he didn't seem to be worrying about anything. He was happy. He’d been happy ever since he’d asked her to marry him and she’d said “of course.” She was happy too of course. Well, until all the wedding talk had begun with her folks.

“Oh, yeah. Mom and Dad are great with it,” she told him lightly. "They, um, even offered to pay for a lot of the other stuff.”

“Oh wow," he said, surprised. "I didn’t want to make them do anything of the sort. I’m going to be doing decent at this new job and it’s not going to be a big wedding.”

“They’re being insistent. Only daughter getting married and all. And since it’s not a big thing they’re being even more so.”

“Oh. Well, we’ll work it out with them. Anyway, you see Martha or Heather yet? I know you were looking forward to them both being in town at the same time this visit.”

“Yeah, we met up last night.”

_“I am so pissed at Jason Dean!” Heather Mac had said through gritted teeth as she grabbed Veronica’s hand and started investigating the ring. “He knows better than to get a ring for you and not consult me! It’s kind of what my dad does. It’s kind of what I am doing now too.” She had accepted a position at her dad’s jewelry company in marketing upon graduation. She was good at it, but she was fully aware— and openly admitted it— that it was completely a nepotism gig but that didn’t mean she couldn’t still make the most of it. She thought it was weird at first to go to work with her dad, but he was distracted by his new secretary and was often out of the office on “work lunches.”_

_There was a time in her life when that would have upset her, but in the course of the last five years there had been many “new young women” and she just learned to accept it as part of his being. Her mom had moved on to a new guy— Louie was a perfectly nice step-father though navigating a step-parent relationship in your adult years was a strange thing in and of itself— and she accepted that if her mom had moved past it she could too. Her dad kept most of that stuff separate from his relationship with her too, which was nice. She honestly wanted him to start thinking of retiring early though and moving to Florida._

_“Heather, it was his mom’s ring. He’d been holding on to it for a while.” She told them an edited version of the story— leaving out the note and the more personal aspects she wasn’t sure JD wanted broadcasted to her oldest friends— and left Heather with a wide look in her eye as she and Martha went at the same time, “awww,” in a high pitched tone that made them both fuzzy and Veronica a little startled._

_They weren’t seventeen anymore, they were twenty-two._

_They took a seat in Heather’s room— she’d moved back into her mom’s house for the moment until she settled on an apartment of her own— and opened the pizza box she’d ordered for the three of them. Veronica nibbled it trying to not be the pizza snob New York had turned her into. She remembered liking the pizza in Sherwood when she was a kid._

_“How’d he do it?” Martha asked, kind of dreamily. “I can’t picture him bending down on one knee, but he was always good at heartfelt gestures." She told them the brief summary of the dinner._

_"Awwww," they both screeched. Again. Her ears were a little raw from it all. But she smiled on._

_“Okay," Heather told her. "We have both decided that when it comes to being the MOH we will not be upset who you choose. I’m just saying I’ve done it twice now for two of my sorority sisters and I have experience.”_

_“She is correct,” Martha added. “But seeing that we promised each other when we were five to be each other’s it only stands to reason-”_

_"MOH?" Veronica asked, confused._

_"Maid of honor," Heather explained._

_"Guys!” Veronica said, shocked. “I mean, I’ve barely even thought of this stuff. It’s not the biggest of deals._ _I just mean, there’s other things going on in all of our lives.” The two blinked at her, surprised._ I am going to be a doctor! Martha you're gonna be a teacher! Heather you got a sweet marketing gig!

_"Oh, my mom says you should use Vito's for the food. They do a great buffet style. Good price," Martha told her. She sighed and hoped that they would get it out of their system that afternoon and tomorrow when they met up could just be the three of them catching up._

"Good to hear. Talked to Jeff on the phone last night. He offered to best man, even though I don't really know what that entails but, I guess he's one of my oldest friends so, that's settled," JD continued. "Oh, by the way, Aunt Phyll’ll be glad your folks okayed their backyard. She’s excited about seeing the sights of Sherwood, if you can imagine,” he joked. “Don’t worry, I’ve already told her there’s not that much to see.”

Veronica grunted. This phone call was more fun when they were goofing on SVH and being nostalgic. “Wedding, wedding, wedding. Isn’t there anything else anyone would like to discuss?” JD startled, he had thought she’d find it funny, not upsetting.

“Um. Okay. What’s the problem?” She sighed and vented.

“I’m sorry, but it’s just the second we got engaged that’s all anyone can talk about! When’s the date? What about flowers? Invitations need to be decided. Guest list. ‘Can we go dress shopping?’ ‘Where are you registering?’ Center pieces. ‘Oh my god I need to go dress shopping with you!’ Ugh! You’d think it was the biggest deal in the whole wide world!” She finished, exasperated.

JD didn’t respond, not even a chuckle like she’d expect of him. “Well, it’s a little exciting. And kind of a big deal,” he finally said, with a hint of hurt in his voice. “Isn’t it?” Veronica blanched, that hadn’t been what she meant at all.

“Come on, you know that’s not what I meant. JD-”

“No, I mean, I’m excited about it. I just assumed you were as excited too.”

“I am excited I’m just-” Her mother poked her head in the door noticing the phone.

“Oh, is that Jason?” She asked. 

“It’s my mom, hold on,” she said to JD on the phone. She didn’t want to leave the conversation like this, but she also didn’t want to let her mom see them fight. Not that they were fighting exactly, but still. “Yeah, mom. I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking. We won’t be much longer. I won’t run the bill up.” She had forgotten in the moment he was calling from out of state.

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” she held her hand out. “There’s a lot to discus after all. Actually, can I talk to him for a moment?” Veronica blinked, surprised. Occasionally he and her mother talked on the phone for a bit at home when she called and he picked up first or when Veronica wasn’t home to answer or occasionally she asked them both to get on the line at the same time, but she’d never asked to speak with him like that directly. 

“Um, yeah,” Veronica said, unsure what else to say. But it did give her a small out rather than dealing with the mini argument she’d inadvertently picked with him. “My mom wants to talk to you,” she told him. 

He swallowed his hurt over Veronica’s less that excited attitude over their nuptials and the mini argument he realized he had inadvertently stumbled into. “Yeah, okay.” Veronica handed the phone over to her mom and he put on his pleasant voice, not wanting to alert her parents of their personal problems. “Hi Mrs. Sawyer,” he said in a much more pleasant tone.

“Mrs. Sawyer,” she laughed. “Stop it. You can call me Sylvia now. Just not mom or mother Sawyer or something equally weird like that. It always creeps me out when in-laws do that.” He laughed.

“Not a problem Mrs.- I mean, Sylvia,” he told her, though the name stuck oddly on his tongue.

“Anyway, I just wanted to tell you personally that we are just as happy as clams about the two of you.” Her mother smiled broadly at Veronica, who did the same back, even though her feelings were still all over the place.

She _was_ happy to be getting married. And she wasn’t above the feminine urge to dreamily plan a wedding but....

But it wasn’t the _only_ thing going on in her life. Since she’d arrived not a single person— not her mom, not her dad, not her friends— had made this as big of a deal of her getting accepted into her doctoral program as the wedding. She wasn’t sure why that had upset her so much, but it did.

“Is that Jason on the phone?” Her father asked as he now popped into her room. Veronica nodded. “Syl?” He asked as he put his hand out gesturing for the phone. Her mother nodded eagerly.

“Oh, okay, honey, Bill wants to talk to you too,” Sylvia excitedly told him on the phone. JD for his part was very startled. It had been a while since they were adversaries but this was the first time he’d ever asked to speak on the phone directly to him. Normally when he called the apartment he called looking for Veronica and if she wasn’t there they did not linger on the phone like he did with her mother.

“Oh, um, yeah,” JD responded. Veronica’s eyes widened too as her mother handed her father the phone.

“Jason, hello. As I’m sure my wife told you we are very happy for the news…” Veronica was stunned. Like JD she was well aware her father’s hate or dislike had faded but to hear him so extremely warm to him was still… pretty foreign. Her mom sat down on the bed with Veronica pleased for this turn of events as the two began to talk. She noticed the unease with her daughter pretty quickly.

“What’s wrong?” She asked Veronica.

“Nothing, nothing,” she lied. “I’ve just never heard the two of them speak together like that.”

“It’s good, isn’t it?” She responded, misunderstanding. She saw the look on her daughter’s face and got confused. “It’s not good? You would like it to go back to the days I was worried he’d actually punch a teenage boy in the face?” Sylvia laughed, trying to imagine her mild mannered husband actually doing that. Veronica didn’t laugh though. “What is it honey?”

“Nothing mom,” she lied again. They were so happy, she didn’t want to rain on the parade.

“...and the job’s going well? Good. The pay is good? When do you think you’ll get benefits? Do you have to wait three months in, or…?”

“Why is he asking him about his pay and benefits?” Veronica asked her mother, startled to hear the conversation take the turn. Her father was never the “money money money” type.

“Oh,” her mom said lightly. “You know dad, he just wants to make sure the two of you will be financially okay and that he’ll be able to put you on his medical when he gets it. We both worry about things like that for you.”

“Cuz I can’t take care of myself?” Veronica muttered, trying to keep her temper down. She shook her head and got up. “I’m sorry I need a walk,” she said grabbing her coat and purse.

She brushed past her dad on the phone who was confused. “Veronica, I’m sorry didn’t you want to talk to him some more?”

“Tell him I’ll call him back later, I need to get a slushy. He’ll understand.” She bounced out the door tugging her arms through her jean jacket and began walking down the street remembering too late that the walk to the 7/11 from her house was about forty minutes without a car. She’d been so spoiled living in New York with a corner bodega and 24 hour pharmacies within a ten minute walk she’d forgotten what life in the suburban Midwest was like. She wished she’d renewed her learner’s permit and actually took the lessons to pass. 

In the end, maybe the walk would do her some good. Why was she stressing about this? Why was she so upset? Of course her friends and family were happy she was getting married. _She_ was happy she was getting married. She and JD were MFEO. Fucking Made. For. Each. Other!

She was glad she had her sneakers on at least as her feet automatically took her down all the streets in Sherwood she had imprinted in her brain from growing up there. Not much had changed in the years since she left. A couple of small businesses had gone under and stood naked and bare on the commercial strip. Her father had told her it was because the owners had passed away and the kids just weren’t interested in keeping the business. 

Her thoughts were a mile a minute, hopping from one subject to another. She thought of how much she loved JD, how much they had gone through to ensure this happy ending of sorts, and how full her heart had been when he slipped his mom’s ring on her finger. She was proud to wear it, proud to call him her husband and goosebump-y over him calling her his wife.

But she was scared too. Veronica Dean. Mrs. Dean.

_Who are you?_

_Oh, I’m JD’s wife._

_Oh, hello Mrs. Dean._

She groaned. She knew it was just a name change but the idea of losing a part of her identity was a little scary. Well, that and that even after earning her doctorate she knew that in a social setting few people would call her Dr. Sawyer, but Mrs. Dean. Mrs. Jason Dean. 

_You know what else you’re scared of, don’t you?_ She was scared of the shoe finally dropping. For the first time since the miracle— what she was now calling her magical mystery time travel death trip— had occurred she had the oddest sensation. 

_What if I don’t get to keep this? What if it goes away?_

She stopped in her tracks. _Shit, that’s what it is, isn’t it? No. No. You changed it all._

But that maybe _was_ a part of it. She was now exactly one year older than she'd been when she went back and got her do-over-- something it was still hard to wrap her head around-- and her life was on a completely different trajectory than it had been before. She was petrified somehow she'd-

It was all too much. She really needed that Slurpee. Sugar was definitely the ticket to sorting this whole panic induced quarter life crisis out. Wedding bells, losing herself to someone else, growing up, worrying about the space time continuum falling apart? All normal girl stuff, right?

She walked into the old 7/11 to the _ding dong_ alert of a customer with a vague sense of déjà vu. She was suddenly overwhelmed with the memory of the night she was on Heather Chandler’s short leash grabbing snacks for the party and ran into JD for the first time since talking in that caf. She could practically see him sitting on the counter in his black pants, motorcycle boots, black shirt, flannel, and trench coat swinging his long legs with that cocky smile. She recalled the instant frisson at the way his eyes raked up and down her body appreciating how hot she looked in a jean jacket, blue halter top, and black mini skirt she was wearing for the party that night. She’d been so infatuated herself and he’d always come off so cool she had no idea how badly he was burning for her. But her lust was written all over her face.

_“Greetings and Salutations. Can I get you a Slurpee with that?”_

Funny. He was so different from that boy only five years later. Not in a bad way of course. He could control his anger and emotions now in a healthy manner. He was almost done with a bachelor’s degree and just acquired his first real grown up job. 

He’d asked her to marry him. He was a proper adult. Maybe that was part of her panic… was she?

_"Bag the party. Hang here.”_

But oh… how she remembered their hard flirt and how much she hated hearing Heather Chandler beckon her to the car and how she just followed like a sheep. Strange, being back in Sherwood this time around was making her crazy.

As she put the lid on her cherry slush she walked over to the counter to pay for it. She didn’t notice the girl with straightened blond hair grabbing the corn nuts and waiting next to her to pay. Possibly because It was literally the last person in the world she expected to see there.

Heather Chandler. 

Veronica blinked at the girl as they both stood at the register unsure who was going to pay for their stuff first. Heather C blinked back. She opened the bag and offered her one. “Want one? Um, they’re barbecue,” she told her, lamely.

**Author's Note:**

> Like, who else would she run into buying corn nuts? Second part soon. Or possibly the epilogue next. And the prom night is almost done too... Again I'll try to do better. Thanks to everyone for being understanding. Comments are always appreciated. I hope this worked. 
> 
> Note: Some readers may not be aware due to age or not being American (not sure if they were really a thing overseas) but Sweet Valley High was a book series from the early 80s until the late 90s about twins (one a "good" girl and the other a "bad" girl, natch) in CA with redic teen romance and thriller and mystery plots. They are awful, super dated, but also super nostalgic and fun all at the same time. And, yes, a lot of the plots could be solved by people just talking to one another. Which Veronica just needs to friggin' do in this sequel!
> 
> Also, I learned to make slushies at home. I feel like a god now.


End file.
